More than a blanket

 When Mackenzie was 6 months old, her godmother, Erin, passed along a spare blanket . This blanket was nearly the same as the one Olivia carried with her but Olivia already had two and didn't need another one. I accepted this gift but had no way of knowing how much this blanket would mean to her.  To this day, and never a day missed in between, Mackenzie sleeps with this very same blanket. It's quite dingy, but still soft in a tattered, well loved sort of way. It smells like nothing and everything all at once. And , just as I did for her every night as I settled her in for bed, she cuddles the blanket over her left shoulder and drifts off to sleep.  Because I was afraid it'd become a germ magnet, this blanket is only allowed out of the house on special occassions. If it were ever lost, I know how heart broken Mackenzie would be with out it, and I would be, too. For with each nights sleep and each midday rest, this bundle of mine, no longer little, has wrapped herself in this swatch of fabric, told it her dreams, cozied up to it for comfort. It's been a sled and a fort and it's been twisted into a cape for girl and dog. Tiny hands clung to it like a parachute. It's more than just soft fabric. It's a memory.

The other day, as I watched Mason use his own blanket as a garage for his cars, I began thinking of how special his blanket is to him, too. Admittedly, I got teary eyed as I remembered when their blankets could swaddle them and now they are an accessory that sometimes winds up bunched up in the couch cushions or stuffed in a box as padding for a rocket ship. But every time bed time nears, a droopy eyed child goes looking for this special piece peace because nights just wouldn't be the same with out their blanket. Special shout out to Erin Wilson who shared with us the magic of the blanket. For that, and everything else, we love you.

Dogs love blankets, too